The first time I met Greg DeTurck, he was not the clean-cut, by-the-book Juilliard pianist I expected. He was wearing a Captain America t-shirt and these green shoes that were revered and adored by the entire studio. In the year I knew him he completely defoed all of my expectations of what a piano professor would be. He was a rebel, a poet, a violist (of all things), and knew a lot about so many things (more than a lot of people gave him credit for). DeTurck (or Dr. Turkey) firmly believed that before you could be a musician you first had to be a decent human being. Practice was important, but so was living. In his year at IC, despite the hardships and setbacks the entire studio faced, we all did a lot of living. He let us decorate his office to our own design, with Ravel records on the walls, Christmas lights and framed drawings in crayon. In return, we sang opera in rep class, watched weird animal porn and played string quartets in keyboarding, and would talk with any of us for hours about anything at all. His door was always open to any of us, and at the end of each semester we'd pile into his living room and laugh and do push-ups until the early hours of the morning. He was smart, kind, compassionate, funny, brave, loyal, and cared about his students more than anything else. He was not just a teacher to me. He was my friend, and one of the best people I've ever met and ever will meet. He is already greatly, greatly missed. Thanks, DeTurck. None of your students will forget the positive impact you had on all of our lives. 🦃 http://ift.tt/29rH2vh
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